


snapshot

by astroblemish



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, is 'erotic selfie taking' a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 13:44:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10900563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astroblemish/pseuds/astroblemish
Summary: Jongdae never has been any good at taking selfies; luckily Baekhyun is around to help.





	snapshot

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to jongdae saying he can't take good selfies --which is, ahem, _offensive_ \-- and also for saying that baekhyun has been teaching him to take better ones.  
> really.  
> big shoutout.

 

* * *

 

Jongdae stands in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time that day, and says, “Fuck.”

There’s being bad at taking selfies, and then there’s being _bad_ at taking selfies --Jongdae isn’t too awful at it, but he supposes he falls somewhere in the middle, depending on the day.

It’s a damn shame too, he thinks, because he looks really good today --like, _really good--_  and yet he can’t even use his newfound power to torment Baekhyun while he’s at work; what’s the damn point? Jongdae looks at his reflection, the long line of his legs in pants so tight they’re practically a vacuum _,_ the bulge of his biceps beneath a tight-fitted shirt, the flex of tendons in his forearms beneath perfectly rolled sleeves. He looks so good it’s practically a cardinal sin, and yet as soon as he’s translated into two-dimensional pixels, the sight is ruined.

Jongdae tries everything --the dog filter, putting text over his greatest imperfections, he even covers his mouth with a damn peace sign-- but each result is as fruitless as the rest, and his face just doesn’t come out quite right.

Sighing, Jongdae clicks his phone shut, and leaves the bedroom mirror behind him as he goes back to his studio in the room over.

 

 

 

 

“What’s the occasion?” Baekhyun asks, before his shoes are even off at the front door, leaning against the wall to slip his heel out as he runs his eyes over Jongdae unabashedly. “Didn’t think my homecoming was that eventful.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, but allows Baekhyun to press a kiss against his cheek all the same, the latter laughing at Jongdae’s exasperation.

“Lunch with my brother,” Jongdae explains, and waves the pen in his hand around half-heartedly. Usually, by this late, when Baekhyun is getting home from rehearsals, Jongdae tends to be in his pyjamas --if not asleep-- dutifully scrawling out notes upon pages and pages of sheet music. Pausing, Jongdae licks his lips. “I thought I looked too good for you to not see.”

Baekhyun hums. “Because you do,” he agrees easily, even though it’s far-off from the bedroom, where he’s tugging one of Jongdae’s t-shirts over his head, switching out of his sweaty rehearsal gear. Jongdae frowns momentarily, and Baekhyun catches the movement, frowning right back. “Something wrong?”

“I tried to take a selfie, you know,” Jongdae blurts, and then hates himself for it at the way Baekhyun’s lips twitch. Ah well, too late to back out now, he supposes. “As payback.”

Baekhyun, being a celebrity and all, is far too good at taking selfies. In fact, Jongdae’s fairly certain it constitutes like, ninety-five percent of his job. In any given situation, there are two sides to the story; Baekhyun saves one innocent, cute picture for his fans, to reel in endless praise and make them wonder how their sex-god (on the stage) can be reduced to something so… soft, and then another one, which is significantly different, and only Jongdae ever receives it.

Always sporadically, and always alone; Baekhyun is far too good at getting Jongdae riled up with only the sight of his messy hair, jutted lips, hooded over eyes and just something imperceptibly sharp about the entire thing. Jongdae knows he shouldn’t save them, because even the slightest leak could ruin his or Baekhyun’s entire career, but, well, he’s pretty sure that’s half the fun.

“Oh?” Baekhyun says, smirking, and cocks his head to the side. “Life trying to imitate art?”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, again, but Baekhyun only cackles, taking the spot on the couch beside him and leaning on all fours as he crawls to pluck the pen and paper out of Jongdae’s hands, leaving them on the coffee table. Baekhyun’s still wearing make-up, skin smoothed over by BB cream and eyes rimmed by eyeliner; his mouth tastes like cherry lip gloss when he leans over to kiss Jongdae, long and deep and slow.

“You know,” Baekhyun starts as he pulls back, taking Jongdae’s breath with him as his eyes automatically fall to the way Baekhyun bites his lip briefly, tongue running over it. God damn it. “If you want to get better at taking selfies, I can teach you.”

That causes all thoughts of Baekhyun’s mouth to wash down the drain, Jongdae’s eyes snapping back up to meet his. “What?”

Baekhyun grins, small andpredatory. “I can teach you,” he repeats, slower. “If you’d like.”

There’s something about the insinuation of being taught how to take selfies that makes Jongdae’s cheeks feel warm, yet there’s also something in the lilt of Baekhyun’s voice that makes Jongdae's  _body_ feel warm in an entirely different way. Grinning, Baekhyun stands off the couch and pulls Jongdae forward by his wrists, causing him to trip over himself in Baekhyun's haste until suddenly Baekhyun’s positioning him in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom, chin on Jongdae’s shoulder as he holds his own phone up.

“If it’s a mirror selfie,” Baekhyun starts, and Jongdae opens his mouth to say _wait,_ _is this really happening?_ But something about Baekhyun’s chest against his back and the firm grip of his hand on Jongdae’s hipbone has him staying silent. “The focal point is the outfit, not the face.”

Baekhyun presses his phone into Jongdae’s palm, camera app already open, and guides his hand beneath Jongdae’s until the phone covers his face in the mirror.

“You need to add levels, too,” Baekhyun says, so matter-of-factly it’s almost ridiculous, but then his fingers are pressing down Jongdae’s body, pushing his hips until they’re slanted, intertwining his hand over the top of Jongdae’s phone-less one. “Go.” He whispers, lips against Jongdae’s ear, and Jongdae does as he’s told, as Baekhyun keeps one hand intertwined with Jongdae’s, and the other wrapped possessively around his waist, hiding his face from the picture all together by burying the side of it into the back of Jongdae’s head.

As such, the photo comes out… strange. Jongdae stands at the focal point, the aesthetic of his outfit captured perfectly, face hidden by the phone itself, but then there’s just this… ghost figure behind him, possessive.

Jongdae, despite himself, shivers.

He feels Baekhyun grin, as he takes his arms back and plucks the phone out of Jongdae’s hand, raising it above them.

“When it comes to front-camera selfies,” Baekhyun says, but his voice isn’t so factual so much as it is… breathy, low, like a calm, soft suggestion, rather than a how-to. “Always take the angle from above, never below.” Baekhyun’s arms stretch around Jongdae to hold the phone up, chin on his shoulder innocently. “You can use filters if you want,” Baekhyun continues, smirking. “But you don’t need them, believe me.”

The next picture is just that: Baekhyun looking up at the camera with a smirk on his face, resting on Jongdae’s shoulder, and Jongdae’s face, pink, flushed, not looking at the camera in the slightest so much as he is his own goddamn demon of a boyfriend.

Fucking hell.

“I usually like to do something with my free hand,” Baekhyun says, ignoring the way Jongdae is silent, watching him attentively. He’s getting worked up just from the deeper sounds of Baekhyun’s voice, his body touching Jongdae’s at every available section of skin, the smooth slide of his hands as he redirects Jongdae’s shoulders, arms, head. Jongdae hates Baekhyun, sometimes; seriously. “Like a heart, or a peace sign, maybe.”

Baekhyun presses the phone into Jongdae’s palm, and raises his eyebrows suggestively, in a gesture for Jongdae to give it a try. Tentatively, Jongdae does as he’s told, raising the camera up and throwing out an unsure heart with his index and thumb, Baekhyun grinning on his shoulder. Just as the camera shutter clicks, Baekhyun’s presses his tongue against the sensitive spot just between Jongdae's jaw and ear, right above his mole.

And so, the third picture: Baekhyun’s eyes lidded and dark, tongue and teeth pressed against Jongdae’s skin _greedily_ , and Jongdae, still flushed from the whole embarrassment of the situation amongst _other reasons_ , smiling unsurely at the camera with a fingerful of hearts because it had snapped before he could even form a reaction.

It’s _ridiculous_ , one of the strangest pictures Jongdae’s ever seen in his life _\--_ but he’d be lying if he said Baekhyun’s tongue against his neck didn’t send sparks down his spine.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae breathes out, and it’s meant to sound insistent but just comes out whiney instead, Baekhyun's fingers hooking underneath Jongdae’s chin until they’re kissing at an awkward angle, right over Jongdae’s shoulder. Baekhyun laughs breathily, smiling, and lets Jongdae push him back on top of the bed, spreading out beneath him easily.

Jongdae takes a moment to appreciate the sight; Baekhyun flushed and panting underneath him as Jongdae hovers over him with a hand on either side of Baekhyun's head, hair fanning out across black sheets as he looks up at Jongdae with dark eyes, impatient.

“Take a picture,” Baekhyun smirks cockily. “It’ll last longer.”

Licking his lips, Jongdae reaches for the phone that’s still in Baekhyun’s hand, and does exactly that.

The fourth picture: Baekhyun’s eyes, sharpened in realisation of what Jongdae is doing, skin pink, clothes rumpled, spread out beneath an outstretched hand that rests beside Baekhyun’s head in order to keep the photographer balanced while he rises over him, shadowing across his face.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Baekhyun breathes, and surges upwards, forcing Jongdae to stand by the edge of the bed. “Lemme see.”

Jongdae laughs at Baekhyun’s childish grabby hands, but gives up the phone all the same, still laughing even as Baekhyun whistles in appreciation at the sight.

“Fuck, I look good,” Baekhyun says, and bites his bottom lip, wrapping a finger through Jongdae’s belt loops and tugging him forward. “C’mere.”

Jongdae leans down until Baekhyun is pressing his tongue into his mouth, moaning a little as heat coils downwards, and then Baekhyun is pulling him onto the bed, almost flinging him across it so that it bounces beneath his weight, easily straddling on top of Jongdae’s waist.

Baekhyun peels his own shirt off, arms crossing over his torso as he tugs it off in one swift motion, and Jongdae --albeit with more wriggling since he’s horizontal-- follows him, leaving half of his amazing outfit screwed up in a ball on the floor.

Shame.

“This okay?” Baekhyun asks, and Jongdae nods easily until Baekhyun is leaning forward to kiss him, attempting to pull back but Jongdae follows him until they’re both sitting up, Baekhyun in Jongdae’s lap, crotch-to-crotch.

Baekhyun pants into Jongdae’s mouth, and Jongdae chases it with his tongue, pulling Baekhyun’s bottom lip between his teeth until Baekhyun just moans, fingers digging into Jongdae’s shoulders. Distantly, Jongdae realises Baekhyun still has his phone in his left hand, pressed against Jongdae’s bicep.

“ _Shit_ ,” Jongdae breathes, and pulls Baekhyun impossibly closer, just to feel his skin against Jongdae’s own. Inevitably, this causes their dicks to press against each other, and they groan in unison into each other’s mouths. “Baekhyun.” Jongdae murmurs, almost like a prayer, and moves his mouth down Baekhyun’s jawline, to his neck, his collarbone, digging his teeth into the skin just to hear Baekhyun’s tiny whimper, soothing over the bite with his tongue, tracing the indents of it and _sucking_. Baekhyun sighs in contentment, and Jongdae hears the shutter-click of a phone camera.

Jongdae laughs against Baekhyun’s collarbone, and wraps his arms around Baekhyun’s waist, looking up at him.

“So vain,” he says, as Baekhyun just re-angles the phone to take another. "Narcissist." 

“I look good though,” Baekhyun counters --and it's not like Jongdae's going to argue-- snapping another photo, head tilted and camera repositioned so that it shows off the red marks Jongdae has left down his neck. Baekhyun’s manager won’t be happy about that in the morning. Oops. “ _We_ look good.”

Jongdae hums noncommittally, and cranes upwards to kiss Baekhyun again, rolling his hips and grinning around the grunt Baekhyun leaves against his lips.

Baekhyun presses two fingers against Jongdae’s shoulder and pushes, Jongdae tipping backwards easily as Baekhyun reseats himself until his ass is over Jongdae’s dick. Baekhyun smirks, sharp, and raises the camera again, swivelling his hips and grinding down as Jongdae moans, back arching off the bed at the pressure and friction, the shutter noise clicking once again.

“I told you we looked good,” Baekhyun says, and leans forward until he’s on all fours over Jongdae, holding the phone screen against his face. This picture has Baekhyun smirking up at the camera knowingly, mostly angled down, though, to show his thighs wrapped around Jongdae’s waist, hand pressed against his chest while the other raises the camera above his head. Only Jongdae’s body is present in the picture, but it definitely shows the way Baekhyun’s ass is sitting over his cock, the arch of his stomach as his spine had curved, stomach muscles pulled taut, dark trail of hair starting beneath Baekhyun’s hand and disappearing behind the waistband of his pants.

“Yeah, _‘we’_ ,” Jongdae snorts, pushing the phone out of his face. Baekhyun just pouts childishly in retaliation, causing Jongdae to hiss when he moves back.

“You take some, then,” he huffs, and leaves the phone on Jongdae’s chest as he pulls back until he’s off the bed completely, kneeling by the edge of it.

“Fuck,” Jongdae breathes out, knowing exactly what Baekhyun wants without asking and laughing lightly. He picks up Baekhyun’s phone nonetheless, though, inching forward until his legs are hanging off the bed, Baekhyun’s head between his thighs.

“This okay?” Baekhyun says, and Jongdae just tilts his head in affirmation, nodding.

“ _God_ , yes,” he says, and Baekhyun giggles as he helps Jongdae shimmy out of his jeans and boxers both, tugging them off completely until he’s completely naked, half-hard.

“Good,” Baekhyun mumbles, and presses a kiss to the inside of Jongdae’s thigh. “Make sure to take lots of pictures.” He adds, as a reminder. Jongdae laughs, but it’s cut off as Baekhyun wraps his mouth around the head of his cock and sucks _,_ tapering off into a groan as Jongdae tips his head back, fingers winding through Baekhyun’s hair.

No matter how many years they’ve spent dating, living together, Jongdae doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of Baekhyun’s mouth, and just how much it’s capable of.

" _Fuck_ , Baekhyun-- _Ah_ ," Jongdae pants. "-- _So_ good."

“Jongdae,” Baekhyun says, pulling off and causing Jongdae to whimper, just a _little_ , tugging one of Jongdae’s hands out of his hair. “Don’t forget what we’re here for.”

Jongdae laughs in disbelief, but picks up the phone by his thigh nonetheless, switching it open diligently. He raises it until it’s high above his head, embarrassed at the sight of his face alongside his naked body, but then suddenly Baekhyun’s mouth is around his cock and Jongdae nearly drops the phone on his face, moaning.

Baekhyun makes a noise in the back of his mouth and Jongdae laughs. “I know, I know,” he says, patting the top of Baekhyun’s head condescendingly. “Photo time.”

Jongdae takes a few just like that, with Baekhyun’s lips stretched around his cock, nose nearer the base. He takes others too, though, as Baekhyun draws back and just sucks on the head, or licks along the side, underneath, presses his tongue against the sensitive spot beneath the head. In all of them Jongdae’s face is flushed, but in others, sometimes, his throat is exposed, Adam's apple curved, or his eyes are fluttered shut, Baekhyun’s face unclear but blurry as it stays between Jongdae’s thighs.

“Fuck Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, and the photos become an afterthought as Baekhyun starts bobbing his head up and down, wet and warm and so so _so_ good. “These pictures are so hot.” Jongdae’s panting now, pulling Baekhyun’s hair between his fingers in warning. “Imagine if somebody else found them,” he starts, almost experimentally, and Jongdae can tell by the way Baekhyun moans around his cock that it’s going well. “Imagine if someone else saw how good you were at sucking my cock, at how much you _enjoy_ sucking my cock.” Baekhyun huffs through his nose, and Jongdae flushes a little bit, embarrassed --dirty talk is always so hard to get right. Jongdae’s humiliation washes away as he groans a little bit, though, as Baekhyun just presses his tongue against Jongdae’s dick harder. “Do you think they’d be jealous, Baekhyunnie? Of how good you look between my thighs?” Baekhyun sucks harder, in payback, and Jongdae half-laughs, half-moans, arching off the mattress slightly and feeling his dick hit the back of Baekhyun’s throat, groaning all over again. Baekhyun's voice is going to be wrecked, probably, and Jongdae couldn’t care less. “Or do you think they’d wonder if this is the only way to get you to be quiet?”

Baekhyun’s moaning sends vibrations up Jongdae’s body, and he pants, so, _so_ close. For good measure, Jongdae raises the phone one last time, this time using the back camera, and simply takes a photo --not a selfie-- just like that: Baekhyun’s lips wrapped around his cock, a hand disappearing down the front of his pants as he touches himself, works a dry fist around his own dick simply because sucking Jongdae off gets to him that badly.

“You’re shameless,” Jongdae manages, turned on beyond belief, and then his grip around the phone tightens as he comes with a groan, Baekhyun swallowing it all dutifully and continuing to suck even when Jongdae is squirming and oversensitive, pulling off and leaving Jongdae destroyed above him.

“Those better be good pictures,” Baekhyun says, wiping saliva off his chin with the back of his hand as Jongdae just flops back onto the bed, exhausted.

“They were,” Jongdae admits, and when Baekhyun reaches for the phone, pulls it out of reach, if only just. “But we’re not done here yet, Baekhyunnie.”

Baekhyun shudders a little bit, and Jongdae just laughs, delighted, as he leans across the bed to the bedside table, where the lube is just there, not even in a goddamn drawerbecause they’re the most unabashed couple on the planet. 

“Clothes off,” Jongdae orders, and Baekhyun rolls his eyes while still obliging, fully hard just from touching himself earlier, getting off on his mouth filled with Jongdae’s cock. Jongdae feels warm just at the thought, but it’s still a little too early for a round two, obviously --good thing he has picture proof of it, then, for later. “Come here.” He says, and pulls Baekhyun into his lap until Baekhyun’s back is pressed against his chest, legs beneath his own.

“If you get lube on my phone,” Baekhyun warns, right as Jongdae carefully pours it over his right hand. “You’re buying me a new one.”

Jongdae laughs breathily, and presses a kiss to the side of Baekhyun’s neck. “I won’t.” He promises, and asks, “Is this okay?”

“Shut up and touch me, Jongdae,” Baekhyun snaps, and Jongdae laughs before agreeing, running his right hand up and down Baekhyun’s cock. Baekhyun likes his handjobs differently to Jongdae, likes them faster and harder, whereas Jongdae likes them slower, more drawn-out. Naturally, Jongdae doesn’t give a fuck about Baekhyun’s preferences, and teases him with languid, lazy strokes, pressing his thumb against the foreskin and watching as Baekhyun squirms in his lap. Jongdae takes a selfie like that, thumb over the volume button, Baekhyun’s head tipped against Jongdae’s shoulder as he pants, whining about Jongdae _hurrying the fuck up_ , neck still love-bitten as Jongdae just appears on the other side of it, teeth digging into Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Fucking tease,” Baekhyun hisses, and groans when Jongdae takes his hand off his cock altogether, bringing it behind him to Baekhyun’s ass and circling the rim until Baekhyun is making these tiny whimpering sounds. Feeling merciful, two fingers slide in easily enough, but Jongdae is still too busy trying to get the camera angle right as he raises it above their heads, fingers more teasing than anything actually useful.

“Too distracted by your own face?” Baekhyun grunts, attempting to press himself into Jongdae’s fingers but Jongdae just pulls his hand out farther each time, refusing to give Baekhyun exactly what he wants, just yet.

“Patience darling,” Jongdae replies, and leaves a kiss behind Baekhyun’s ear. “Timing is everything.”

Deeming the angle good enough, Jongdae presses his fingers deep inside sudden and fast, knowing Baekhyun’s sweet spot even with his eyes closed. Baekhyun cries out from the sudden feeling, crooning, and the shutter clicks away, Baekhyun’s face twisted in a silent, immortalised moan as Jongdae just stares at the camera with a knowing smile on his face, hand disappearing mysteriously between their bodies.

“Imagine posting this for the whole world to see,” Jongdae says, as Baekhyun rocks himself back on Jongdae’s fingers, groaning, hips bucking uselessly as Jongdae moves his hands to greet him with every movement. “Everybody seeing how good you look fucking yourself on my fingers.”

Baekhyun _moans_. “I think all they’d see is how bad you have it for me,” he counters, even though it’s clearly getting to him, and Jongdae snorts into his neck, runs his tongue over Baekhyun’s shoulder blade. “See how easily you do what I tell you to.” He grins knowingly. “You’re even taking selfies for me Jongdae, you’re so whipped.”

Jongdae laughs at that, and tunes his focus to his fingers, rather than the phone.

“They wouldn’t be wrong,” he admits, and presses his fingers harder over Baekhyun’s prostate, enjoying the way he lets out a shaky breath. “I’d do anything for you, probably,” he adds, faux-casually. Jongdae puts the phone down, and uses his now free hand to wrap around Baekhyun’s cock. It won’t be as good considering it’s his left, but Jongdae’s had plenty of practice over the years, and Baekhyun’s wrecked enough that it shouldn’t matter to begin with so long as there’s just some friction. No longer focusing on the camera, Jongdae looks forward, and meets Baekhyun’s eyes in the full-length mirror, standing opposite the bed. Baekhyun looks _so_ beautiful like this, a panting mess beneath Jongdae’s hands, eyes dark. “I’m yours.” Jongdae mutters, in his lower register, just to piss Baekhyun off --because it’s hot, or something-- and Baekhyun cries out, _so_ close.

“We look so good,” Baekhyun manages somehow, and his hand blindly fumbles for the phone on the mattress, holding it up to take a photo of himself in the mirror, Jongdae smirking over his shoulder right into the camera lens as it flashes in the low-light. The lens flare crops out Baekhyun’s hands and face, but Jongdae’s hand around his cock and fingers inside him is still clear enough, the way Baekhyun is pressed desperately against him, flushed and  _needy_ , right on the verge of coming all over himself.

“Should post it on Instagram,” Jongdae murmurs, right into Baekhyun’s ear. “So everyone can see how beautiful you are.”

Baekhyun cries out at that, and he’s definitely close now, Jongdae knows. He’s spent years memorising every single one of Baekhyun’s mannerisms, every tick and telltale sign, he’d be a fool to not know this one, as pre-come dribbles over Jongdae’s left hand.

“Is that why I should?” Baekhyun prompts, and really, Jongdae’s always so impressed by how vocal Baekhyun can be, even on the brink of a fucking orgasm. “Or is it because you want everyone to see that I belong to you?”

Jongdae hums, increasing the speed of his left hand as his other hand just presses harder, right as Baekhyun bucks down onto it.

“Bit of both,” he admits, and Baekhyun comes with a sudden cry, phone cluttering to the mattress uselessly as Jongdae is careful to catch most of the come in the palm of his hand, grimacing when he pulls his hands back and finds them both covered in lube, dick twitching again but not really enough to be a problem.

Baekhyun tumbles out of Jongdae’s lap with a laugh as Jongdae stands to immediately wash his hands off in the ensuite,  drying them on the hand towel.

When he reenters the bedroom, Baekhyun is still naked and snapping selfies on the mattress, bathing in the afterglow.

“Come here,” Baekhyun says, and Jongdae obliges, pressing himself up against Baekhyun and kissing his shoulder before tipping his head against it. “Smile for the camera.”

The clicker shuts, and Jongdae laughs, leaning up just that little bit to press his mouth against Baekhyun’s. Unfortunately, Baekhyun’s breath still tastes like come, so Jongdae pulls back with a _blegh_ , Baekhyun cackling before kissing the tip of Jongdae’s scrunched up nose, mumbling something about _adorableness_.

“I should probably delete the photos,” Baekhyun says suddenly, almost sad, as he flips through them all. “In case they get leaked.” Just looking at them has heat pooling in Jongdae’s groin all over again, so he presses his hand over the phone screen and locks it shut, distracting Baekhyun by rolling on top of him and pressing their lips together, kissing him long and slow and deep and just pretending that his mouth doesn’t taste disgusting.

“Don’t.” Jongdae says simply.

“Okay.” Baekhyun replies, and kisses back eagerly, winding his arms around Jongdae's neck, because at the end of the day, he’s kind of whipped too.

Besides, the thrill of having the photos and getting caught, well --that’s just half the fun.

 

(The last photo of the night had been this: Jongdae and Baekhyun lying next to one another, heads tipped together lazily, eyes still wide and dark and skin still flushed --neither of them are looking at the camera, though, too busy looking at each other with grins on their faces, eyes filled with something more wonderful than simple, plain, old love.)

 

* * *

 

 _bonus_.

 

 _check instagram_ , comes Baekhyun’s text, weeks later. He’s in Tokyo performing, and Jongdae is still stuck in Seoul, composing music for other people to sing. Grumbling, Jongdae switches to the app obediently.

Jongdae doesn’t really do Instagram, but it is logged into Baekhyun’s account on Jongdae’s phone, for whenever Baekhyun’s is out of battery or broken --which is like, ninety percent of the time. Jongdae figures it’s nothing on the main feed that’s meant to interest him, and easily opens Baekhyun’s profile, nearly dropping his phone altogether when he sees what Baekhyun has most recently posted.

It’s just a cute selfie, like everything else he posts, and shows Baekhyun looking into the camera with a crinkled up smile on his face. Except the angle is crooked enough that it catches the shadow of hickeys Jongdae had left along his neck that morning, and Jongdae thinks that a picture telling a thousand words isn’t true at all, because the way Baekhyun had taken the photo completely denies the fact that Jongdae had also been beneath him while he’d been taking this, sucking him off.

The fact that Baekhyun posted this photo, knowing full well of what had been happening in the background, has Jongdae pressing his palm against crotch immediately as he leans back against the couch, bucking into his own palm. A stuttered breath, a grin, and then Jongdae laughs to himself before turning the camera on his phone onto the front-facing mode, raising his arms upwards and taking a photo of the way he touches himself -- _exactly_ as Baekhyun had taught him to-- hand wrapped around his cock at the thought of the whole world seeing the look in Baekhyun’s eyes when Jongdae is underneath him.

Jongdae sends it over text, not snapchat --just to be sure Baekhyun sees it, and _keeps_ seeing it-- with the caption, _i finally learnt how to take selfies, I think._

 _I hate you_ , comes Baekhyun’s response, near immediate. _You’re the worst._

 _Love you too~_ Jongdae texts back, cackling, and when his phone lights up with Baekhyun’s incoming call, well, who said Jongdae would ever turn down some good old fashioned phone sex.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> :')


End file.
